Not Another Mistake
by Some1FoundMe
Summary: He knew the minute that Sara's shirt hit the mat at their feet that he had to put a stop to it. Warning bells were going off in his head and a voice, one he was sure he should've recognized, was pleading with him to not let this happen. Spoilers for "Heir to the Demon". Olicity.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Well right off the bat, I think I'm kicking cannon to the curb. Granted, we don't know what's going to happen on this week's episode but my guess is, Oliver and Sara did have sex... ugh. Anyway, this is how it happened in my head :)**

**Not Another Mistake**

He knew the minute that Sara's shirt hit the mat at their feet that he had to put a stop to it. Warning bells were going off in his head and a voice, one he was sure he should've recognized, was pleading with him to not let this happen. Sara was warm, her hard body pressed to his, and the familiar weight of her made pulling away from her that much more difficult.

"Sara."

He held her at arm's length, his hands firm on her upper arms. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his racing heart. When he was finally able to look at her, he wasn't surprised by the rigid set of her shoulders. He also wasn't surprised by the emotions that he saw playing in her eyes.

He sighed softly and relaxed his hold. He knew that the desperation and longing that he saw when he looked at her had nothing to do with him, not really. Sara didn't need him. She needed someone to help soothe the ache that Laurel's words had caused. She needed something to use as a balm to heal the wounds that she couldn't see.

He had been there. He understood. But that meant that he also understood the repercussions that would come if they'd gotten any further than they had. He wanted to help her but he knew that whatever had been about to happen between them wouldn't help either of them. In the end, they would only hurt the people that they truly cared about.

It was then that he realized that the voice that he'd heard in his head had belonged to the other blonde woman who occupied a large part of his life. The one he'd hurt so much already.

Felicity.

He took a deep breath and stepped further from Sara, his hands dropping to his sides.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "I can't do this. We can't, Sara."

She remained silent as she bent to retrieve her shirt and he turned away from her to give her a moment of privacy as she redressed. When she crossed the room to Felicity's computers, he followed.

"Laurel really does hate me," she muttered, sinking into the chair at the table, "I don't know that anything that I can do will make it better. I – I thought that she'd be happy."

He rested against the edge of the table beside her.

"Laurel's had a rough few months, Sara, and I'm not trying to make excused for her but you have to consider what she's been through. With Tommy and her addiction… I'm not saying that it excuses her behavior but do you honestly want to add you and I to the list of things that she has to deal with?"

Sara rolled her eyes, "We're adults, Ollie, and as far as I know, you and my sister are just friends, right?"

He crossed his arms over his bare chest and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling, "Laurel and I are friends, yes, but does that mean that we have to throw out – whatever this is – in her face the minute that you get back? She needs time to process what's going on. You just came back from the dead after six years, Sara. Even you have to admit that that's not an easy thing to deal with. Laurel will come around. She loves you. She's spent years searching for you, wanting to believe that you're alive."

"She accepted you being back," she pointed out.

He glanced at her, "You don't think she wasn't pissed when I came home, too? She wanted nothing to do with me."

Sara leaned back in Felicity's chair, looking up at him. It wasn't hard to remember what it was that had attracted him to her all those years ago. She had been young and beautiful and free spirited. She was still all of those things but there was a hardness to her that hadn't been there before. He knew that her time on Lien Yu had changed her just as it had changed him. But he also knew that being a part of the League of Assassins had shaped her into the woman sitting beside him.

"She blamed you for what happened to me."

It wasn't a question and he didn't bother to answer. They were both silent for a long moment and his eyes wandered to the soft pink sweater folded neatly on the computer table near Sara's elbow. It was Felicity's, the spare she kept there because she was always cold in the cement-walled room. He knew that he shouldn't, but he couldn't help compare Sara with his partner. Felicity was soft and quiet, her strength coming in the form of her intellect rather than her body. But whether or not she was a fighter like Sara, she was just as brave. Although, he thought, her bravery came mostly from stubbornness. She'd jumped out of a plane with Diggle when they'd come to Lien Yu. It hadn't been bravery that had moved her, it had been her stubbornness to bring him home.

"Is it really Laurel that you think that you'd be hurting?" Sara asked, "Or is there someone else?"

He focused on her as the words passed between them. Sara was more observant than most people so it shouldn't have surprised him that she had noticed the way his mind had wandered off.

He shrugged, "I think that you and I falling into some sort of relationship wouldn't be good for anyone. We aren't those people anymore, Sara, at least I'd like to think that we're not. I have people in my life who depend on me, people that I care about, and I know that anything that you and I start would just end badly. You don't love me any more than I love you."

She scoffed, "Since when do you have to be in love with someone to have sex with them?"

He sighed again, scrubbing his hand over his face tiredly.

"I told you, I'm not that person anymore. I've changed, Sara. My life has changed."

She stared at him for longer than he was comfortable with but he didn't back away. He knew what Sara was implying, what she assumed had kept him from letting things between them get farther. And even though he didn't want to admit it, he knew that she was right. At least in part.

He couldn't get Felicity's voice out of his head. He had heard the pain in her voice, heard how afraid she had been that she would lose him if she told him what she'd learned about Thea. But even though she thought that the potential to ruin their friendship was there, she was still honest with him. She had risked hurting herself in order to make sure he knew the truth. He couldn't imagine hurting her, not again. She didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve her but she was there and he would do everything that he could to keep her.

"You should really consider letting her in, Ollie."

He shrugged, "It's too complicated, too… dangerous."

Sara stood then, shaking her head, and rested her hand on his forearm.

"Have you ever considered that maybe she doesn't care about that?"

He didn't respond. He wasn't interested in having this conversation with Sara, not now, not after what they had almost done.

"I think I'm going to go," she said when he hadn't answered, "I'll be at my dad's if you need me."

He remained silent as he watched her walk away. He let her go, waiting until he heard the door close behind her before sinking down into the chair that she'd vacated. He closed his eyes.

Sara would be okay. She would survive without him, she had for a long time. What they'd come close to doing would've been a mistake and he'd already made enough mistakes to last him a lifetime. He wouldn't let her be another one. He knew that if he had slept with Sara, if he'd actually let it get that far, he would've been hurting Felicity more than he ever had before. It would've pushed her away and he would've deserved it when she walked out of his life for good.

The thought made every bone in his body ache. He couldn't lose her. He'd promised her that she wouldn't lose him, something she obviously feared, but he'd made that promise as much for her as for himself. He couldn't let her go. Maybe Sara was right. Maybe he should let Felicity in. She knew him, knew him better than most people, and, not for the first time, he wondered if she was the one who could save him.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who read / favorited / reviewed this story! The feedback is always appreciated. Clearly I've gone off cannon now that we've seen the aftermath of "Heir to the Demon". Oh well, this one is probably going to go on for a while because, well, I love writing these two! Enjoy!**

Not Another Mistake

He wasn't surprised to hear the sound of Felicity's heels on the concrete floor a few hours later. He had been using the salmon ladder for longer than he should've, pushing his body to the brink of exhaustion. He knew that that would be the only way he'd get any sleep. His mind had been racing ever since Sara'd left but it hadn't been her that he hadn't been able to stop thinking about.

He watched as Felicity crossed the room, glancing up at him briefly to let him know that she knew he was there before stowing her bag under the table and sinking heavily into her chair. She had changed out of the dress that she'd worn to the office, replacing it with a mint colored sweater and dark jeans that hugged her body. He couldn't remember the last time that he'd seen her dressed so casually. Her hair was down, laying in soft curls over her shoulders and he could see that her face had been cleaned of make-up.

He dropped from the bar, landing just a few feet to her right.

"It's late," he pointed out, wiping sweat from his face before pulling on a t-shirt, "Why aren't you at home?"

He half expected her to roll her eyes and parrot the question back at him. Instead, she just shrugged.

"Couldn't sleep."

He waited while she booted up her computers, watching as she clicked through several screens. When she had found whatever it was that she'd been looking for, he closed the distance between them and stood behind her chair. He lifted his hands to her shoulders, the need to touch her overwhelming him. He wasn't sure when he'd decided that he would act on it but he found himself applying pressure to the back of her neck and between her shoulder blades.

"You know that you can talk to me about anything, right?" he prompted.

He rubbed slow circles with his thumbs, the tension she carried in her shoulders evident under his hands. He kneaded a particularly hard knot and she let out a soft sigh. He wasn't sure if it was out of exasperation or brought on by the pressure of his fingers but either way, he couldn't help but appreciate the sound.

"I just – I can't stop thinking about what happened at your mom's rally. I'm sorry, Oliver. I wish that I hadn't told you, not like that anyway. There had to be a better way, a better time. I mean, I should've at least waited until after you'd made your speech but I saw her and she looked at me like she was just daring me to open my mouth and I knew that you needed to know. I knew that I had to tell you but she freaked me out and I was… I was so scared that she was right but –"

He squeezed her shoulders gently, cutting off her rambling.

"Felicity, what did my mother say to you?"

Her fingers fell from the keyboard in front of her to her lap where she began twisting them nervously. He knew that whatever had been said, it had really frightened her. He had thought that he couldn't possibly despise his mother more than he already did but he'd been wrong.

"She said that you'd hate me."

The words were so quiet that he could hardly hear them but the pain and uncertainty in her voice made him feel as if he'd been punched in the gut.

"Felicity…"

She turned her head slightly, looking up at him and he couldn't help but notice that her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. She had clearly been crying. He understood then why she'd been so hesitant to tell him, why she'd thought that she would lose him. His mother had found something that made Felicity vulnerable and she'd exploited it. The fact that it was their friendship that his mother had chosen to abuse left him with an anger that he could hardly control. And the knowledge that Felicity had, if even for a moment, believed that he could truly hate her made him realize that he had failed her. He had failed to show her just how much she meant to him, how important she was.

He turned her chair and reached for her hands, pulling her to her feet and into the circle of his arms. She stiffened against him. The only time that they had ever been this close, she had been the one to initiate the contact. She had hugged him the night that he'd gone after Gold, the night that she had begged him to come back alive. He had restrained himself then, hadn't given in to the need to hold on to her like he desperately wanted to. Like every other encounter that they had shared before that, he had kept her at arm's length because it was all he could do. He had tried so hard to keep himself from feeling anything more than a general sort of affection for her but as he held her much smaller, softer body to his, he knew that denying that he cared for her as more than just a friend was pointless.

"Felicity, I could never hate you," he insisted, "No matter what happens, no matter what you have to tell me, I will never hate you."

She shook in his arms, a small tremor racing through her just before she sagged against him. He tightened his hold, standing silent guard over her as the emotion rushed out of her. She buried her face in his chest, hiding her eyes while her tears fell.

He wasn't sure how long they stood that way but when Felicity pulled back, her eyes were damp with tears and her cheeks were flushed. She gave him a watery smile.

"I just don't like that she was able to get to me," she admitted, "I would like to think that you would never really hate me… and I'd like to think that I know her better than you. I mean, I know _you, _Oliver. But I – I don't know what I'd do with myself if I lost you."

He shook his head, "I told you, you're not going to lose me. My mother was just trying to scare you. She would've done anything, said anything, if she thought that it would keep you from telling me the truth. But I'm glad that you did. Felicity, don't you understand that I trust you implicitly?"

She cocked her head to one side, her skeptical look causing his lips to quirk up slightly.

"Okay so I know that it may not always seem that way but I do. I trust you."

She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, brushing back the few pieces that tried to cling to her cheeks.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come here and cry on your shoulder, like, literally. You've got enough going on with your mom and with Sara almost dying and, you know, being released from the League. I guess she's going to be hanging around now, right? Is she going to be a part of the team? I mean, that'd be kind of cool I guess but do you really think that you can trust her?"

She flushed when she realized that she'd been rambling again.

He shrugged, "I don't know if Sara's going to stay. I – we haven't really talked about it. She's struggling, though, with her parents and Laurel. She needs all of the friends that she can get."

"Oh. Right. Friends. That makes sense."

She turned away from him, intent on distracting herself with whatever was on her computer monitors, but he grasped her elbow lightly and urged her to look at him.

"That's all that Sara and I can be, Felicity," he explained, "We will only ever be friends."

She nodded, keeping her eyes anywhere but on him. He understood why she was hesitant to believe him. He didn't exactly have the best track record with the women in his life but he wanted her to know that Sara being home didn't mean that they were back together.

"And don't apologize for needing someone to talk to. I've told you before, if you need someone to talk to about your day, I'm here."

Felicity took a deep breath and he could practically hear her counting backwards from three to calm down. Or to rein in whatever word vomit she had been about to let go. Either way, he stood in silence and waited for her to say something. When she looked up at him and opened her mouth before quickly closing it again, he realized that she was actually holding something back.

"Are you hungry?" he asked suddenly, "Do you – do you want to go get something to eat?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, "Um, yeah, sure."

She dug around under the desk for her bag and turned back to him, pausing as he headed for the exit.

"Oliver?"

He stopped, looking back at her, "Yeah?"

"It's the middle of the night," she pointed out, "Where exactly are we going to go?"

He'd forgotten all about the late hour. All he wanted was to keep her talking, to spend as much time with her as he could, because suddenly she was the only person that he wanted to be around.

"I'd say that we could go back to my place and I'd cook for you but –"

She shook her head, "Not a chance in hell. I'm not going anywhere near your mother's house. Why don't you come to my place? I'll cook. Well, I'll try."

He smiled, gesturing for her to lead the way, and followed her toward the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Again, thank you all so much for the reviews! I will say that this chapter is not my favorite but I do feel like this awkwardness would definitely exist between them. Also, I'm thinking that we're gonna switch POVs in the next chapter… I will post again as soon as I can

**Not Another Mistake**

They took separate vehicles to her apartment. He parked his motorcycle in the space beside her car and they crossed the parking lot in silence. He couldn't help wondering if she was nervous at the prospect of having him in her space. She was quiet, too quiet, and he wondered what she was thinking.

When they entered her apartment she kicked off her shoes and he smiled at how much shorter she was with the loss of her heels. He toed off his own shoes, leaving them next to hers by the door. He paused as he looked down at their footwear side by side. The domesticity of the image left an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Felicity waved him toward her living room as she headed for the kitchen.

He crossed her small apartment and took in his surroundings. Her home, like her personality, was vibrant and quirky. The rug under his feet was a swirling pattern of teal, coral and yellow that matched the throw pillows on her otherwise neutral sofa. The wall behind said sofa was a collage of brightly colored picture frames, almost all of which contained a smiling Felicity with her friends and – he assumed – family. She'd told him only the day before that her father had left when she was young but he knew nothing else about her family. Did she have siblings? Aunts and uncles and cousins that she was close to? Where was her mother? He realized that he couldn't answer a single one of those questions.

"Would you like something to drink?" she called, "I've got water, milk, orange juice… oh, and wine, of course."

He followed the sound of her voice into the kitchen and found her rummaging in a drawer, presumably for a bottle opener.

"I hope pasta is okay," she said, glancing over her shoulder at him, "It's pretty much the only food that I can cook that doesn't come frozen."

"Pasta's fine."

She nodded, holding up the corkscrew triumphantly a minute later. He took it from her.

"I'll do that," he told her, watching her expression shift as their fingers touched.

It was apparent then that he wasn't the only one feeling whatever it was that was happening between them. Her face was flushed when she met his eyes again.

He cleared his throat and looked away, hoping to diffuse the tension between them. Although, he decided, it wasn't necessarily a bad kind of tension. Neither of them was angry.0

"I just realized that I've never been here," he pointed out, "To your apartment, I mean."

She shrugged, "There was never any reason for it."

He opened the wine and set the bottle on the counter. Felicity had turned back to the pot on the stove.

"We've been friends for almost two years, Felicity, I'm sure that I could've found a reason to stop by. I mean, I've been to Diggle's place."

She turned to him, her brows raised.

"Yeah, once, and you remember why, right? Because you pissed him off and he walked away. You went over there to grovel."

He smirked, "I didn't grovel."

Felicity rolled her eyes and went back to preparing dinner.

"But I'm glad that I never had to come here and beg you to come back," he admitted, "I'm glad that you never left."

Her back stiffened but she relaxed a moment later. He knew that he'd said things to her in the past that he never should've said, things that she had taken exactly the way that he'd meant them. And he knew that she had slowly been building a wall that kept his words from getting under her skin.

He leaned against the counter while she cooked, neither of them saying anything. He watched her and considered all of the times that he could've come to see her. She and John had both been to his home on several occasions but he had never once visited her at home. It was true that they all had roles to place. His was that of the billionaire playboy turned CEO and hers was as his assistant. In public she and John were just his employees but in reality they were both so much more than that. They were his friends. His partners.

"I'm sorry."

She turned to him, spatula in hand, and canted her head.

"For what?"

It was his turn to shrug, "For not being a good friend to you."

She rolled her eyes and turned back again.

"You aren't a bad friend, Oliver. We all have roles to play in public. I'm your executive assistant and trust me, people already talk. If you and I start spending too much time together out of the office, everyone's going to think we're married or something."

He saw a flush creep up the back of her neck but she didn't turn to him again. People made assumptions about their relationship, he wasn't an idiot. Hell, Isabel had practically accused him of whisking Felicity off to Russia for an international affair. They had never actually discussed the rumors.

"Does it bother you? The way that people talk?" he asked.

She shrugged but said nothing. Her silence spoke volumes. Felicity was never the type of person to keep things to herself. In all the time that he'd known her, her biggest problem had been that brain to mouth filter that she claimed not to possess. The fact that she had nothing to say let him know that the rumors circulating at QC didn't sit well with her.

"Is it just me or is this awkward?"

The words rushed out of her as she whirled around to face him again.

He laughed lightly, "It isn't just you. But it shouldn't be. We're friends, right? We've been friends for almost two years so you and I having dinner together should be perfectly normal."

She sighed, her shoulders sagging in relief. He found himself relaxing even further against her counter. For whatever reason, admitting that this moment that they were sharing was awkward made it suddenly less so.

"Why don't you set the table?" she suggested, "Dishes are behind you."

He nodded and did as she asked, taking the lemon yellow plates from her cabinets and carrying them to the table. That odd feeling that he'd had earlier returned as he laid the silverware beside the plates. Things between them were changing, growing, and in a way that he wasn't prepared for. He shook his head. If only he had known that Sara coming home would somehow force him to see the other woman in his life so clearly.

Felicity appeared then with a large bowl of pasta in hand, the smell of marinara sauce invading his senses. She set the bowl on her small table and slid into the chair that left her with her back to the door. He didn't have to ask her to know that she'd chosen that seat on purpose. She knew him well enough to know that being unable to see the exit left him on edge.

"If you don't sit soon, I'm going to start without you," she told him, "I'm suddenly starving."

He took the seat opposite her, pouring each of them a glass of wine as she dished food out onto her plate. As they ate, the awkwardness that they'd felt earlier settled over them again. He knew that it shouldn't be so difficult to have a conversation with Felicity. He had so many things that he wanted to ask her. He hadn't been able to stop thinking of how little he knew about her since the rally for his mother when she'd made the confession about her father. The problem wasn't finding something to talk about, it was finding a way to broach the subject.

"How did it go with your mom?" she asked then, her words pulling him out of his own head.

He shrugged, "As well as it could've gone, I guess. I didn't hurt her which, honestly, I wanted to."

"But you confronted her?"

He nodded, his gaze focused on the food he was pushing around on his plate. The anger that he'd felt -the disbelief, the disappointment – was nothing compared to what he felt now. Not only had his mother kept her affair with Malcolm Merlyn from him, she'd let he and Thea spend their lives believing that she was his father's daughter. On top of that, and what was even more infuriating for him in that moment, she had used his friendship with Felicity to threaten her, to hurt someone that he really cared about. His mother was lucky that he had enough sense not to put an arrow in her.

"What did she say? Was she… did she say anything about – about me?"

His eyes snapped to hers, catching the apprehension that she quickly tried to hide.

"It doesn't matter what she said," he told her, "And no, she didn't say anything about you. Don't worry about my mother, Felicity, I won't let her hurt you. She isn't going to come near you again."

She took in a sharp breath at his harsh tone. He couldn't help the venom that slipped into his voice as he spoke of the woman that he once loved more than anything in the world. He hadn't always been a good son but he did love his mother as all children do. He loved her and Thea and their family had been one of the few things that kept him fighting on the island.

"Okay."

The rest of their meal was accompanied by silence and he was grateful that she didn't push him to recount his conversation with his mother any more. He was also glad that she didn't bring up Sara or Thea or anything else that could easily bring more tension into the room. Instead she let him have a moment to breathe, to regain his balance and push his anger aside.

When she stood to clear the table, he joined her. They made quick work of cleaning up and when there was nothing left for them to do, Felicity took her wine glass and the bottle to the living room. He followed.

She sank into the far end of the sofa and he sat at the opposite end, eyeing the photos above their heads again. He felt her eyes on him then and he knew that she was waiting for him to say something. It had been his idea, them having dinner together, but he hadn't realized how difficult it would be. They were alone together more often than not, either at Queen Consolidated or in the foundry. John was sometimes there to act as a buffer but he had noticed that, more and more, he and Felicity were alone. Those situations were so much different than this. They didn't talk. They worked in silence, the need for small talk eradicated by the need to hunt down their next target.

But tonight was not one of the times when the silence between them was comfortable, when it didn't feel wrong. Tonight he felt like his nerves were on fire with the need to get her to open up to him. The desire to be close to her was warring with his instinct to walk away, to do whatever was necessary to keep her safe even if that meant staying away from her.

For the first time in a long time, he was going to follow his heart rather than his head.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: As always, the reviews are greatly appreciated I was a little hesitant about posting the previous chapter but it makes me feel better to know that I'm not the only one who thinks that this conversation between them would be super awkward. I mean really, how do you tell someone that you've been an idiot for eighteen months and have it not be awkward? Anyhow, just a heads up, this is now in Felicity's POV and will be for the next couple of chapters.

**Not Another Mistake**

"What are you doing here, Oliver?"

The question had been on the tip of her tongue since the moment he'd stepped into her apartment. And it wasn't that she didn't want him there. She would've been lying if she'd tried to deny that she had imaged more than once what it would be like to curl up beside him on her couch to watch a movie. But he always kept her at a safe distance. Yes there were times when he'd say something or do something that would cause a tiny spark of hope to flare up inside of her. But she'd learned that it was safer to ignore the way that his words made her heart beat a little faster and the way that his hand on her shoulder left her entire body tingling. She was less likely to feel the ache in her chest when she saw him with Laurel or Sara. She could keep the pain at bay if she could just keep stomping out that hope every time it tried to suck her in.

"I don't know."

His quiet answer didn't surprise her as much as it should. She understood. More often than not, Oliver followed his instincts whether he had a plan formulated ahead of time or not. He did what he had to do and often made it up as he went along. Clearly something had brought him to her or rather, she thought, kept him with her after their conversation at Verdant. He, like her, just hadn't figured out what that was.

"Are you – are you okay?" she questioned, "The last couple of days have been … trying. With everything that's happened with Laurel and Sara and what you found out about your sister. What I told you…"

He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. She knew that he wasn't upset with her, he'd told her as much, but that didn't stop the guilt from welling up inside of her. If she hadn't been digging for information on his mother, if she hadn't confronted Walter, none of this would've happened. Oliver never would've found out that Thea was only his half-sister. Moira Queen wouldn't have threatened her with the one thing that she absolutely could not lose.

"I'm fine, Felicity. I just… I don't know. I feel like I don't know my own mother. She isn't the woman that I thought that she was. It was hard enough knowing what she did to my father, to me, but Thea… somehow I thought that Thea was safe from all of this."

She sighed, "I'm sorry, Oliver, I know how much you wanted to keep her out of this. You still can, though, she doesn't have to know. Not now, anyway. But you can't tell Roy, either, he won't be able to keep that to himself."

"Trust me, I have no plans to tell anyone else. The two people that need to know already do."

She looked away, carefully extricating her hand from his, and reached for the wine that sat on the coffee table.

"How old were you?" Oliver asked, his question confusing her before he added, "When your dad left? How old were you?"

She turned, sitting sideways with her back against the arm of the couch. She didn't answer for a moment as she studied him sitting across from her.

"I was eight. I don't remember a lot about it, him leaving I mean. He was there one day and then… and then he wasn't. My mom sort of acted like it hadn't happened. She basically cut him out of our lives. I'd ask about him, when he was coming home, where he went, but she would just ignore me."

He watched her closely and she could see the questions in his eyes. She could also see the compassion and sympathy there. She chose to ignore those emotions.

"I searched for him," she continued, "When I was at MIT, I tracked him down. Turns out that, after the divorce from my mom was final, he remarried. Her name is Monica Parker. She was only twenty-two at the time. They'd been having an affair and my dad left my mom for her."

When Oliver made no move to close the distance between them, she desperately wished that he would.

"He left you, too," Oliver said softly.

She nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

"Yeah, he did. He has a son now. He, um, he's twelve. His name is Colin. I have a little brother that I've never met."

He did move then, finding her hand again and pulling her forward into the circle of his arms. She fought back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. She didn't want to cry. She had cried enough over her father during the course of her life. There were no more tears left to cry for him.

She pulled away, putting a small amount of space between them, and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Sorry. This conversation is seriously depressing. Can we talk about something else?" she asked, "Like Sara? You said that you don't know if she's going to stay or not? Do you… do you want her to?"

He shrugged, "I'd like her to stay in Starling City but if she chooses to leave, I'll support her. Laurel wasn't as happy to see her as she'd hoped. She thought that it would be easy. She doesn't know what it was like for me when I came home. Everyone was so damn placating, like I would snap if anyone said the wrong thing. And I probably would've. But they were curious, too. Everyone wanted to know what had happened to me, my mother and Thea included. Even Laurel. The first time she saw the scars… Sara thought that she would come home and things would just go back to normal. Obviously it doesn't really work that way."

"I can't imagine what it must've been like," she said quietly, "For you. What it's like for Sara now. But I can imagine what Laurel is going through. Not that I think that she shouldn't be happy that her sister is alive but, you know, a lot changed after Sara disappeared. Her parents got divorced. Her mom left. And she'd lost you and Sara, too. I bet it wasn't so easy for her. And then all of a sudden your back and she still thinks Sara's dead. She loses Tommy and then, bam, Sara's alive. I mean, she's been through a lot in the last year and a half."

Oliver stared at her when she finished, a small smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth, and she felt her face flush. She hadn't meant to ramble on behalf of Laurel Lance but it couldn't be helped. She could sympathize with her. While she hadn't known Oliver pre-island, she knew him well enough now that, when he chose to return to Lian Yu after the destruction in the Glades, he'd taken a piece of her with him. And when she and Digg had dragged him back from that God forsaken place, he had acted as if nothing had happened. She knew a little bit about being on Oliver Queen's emotional rollercoaster.

"I never thought I'd hear you empathizing with Laurel."

She rolled her eyes, "It's not like we've formed an "Emotionally Damaged by Oliver Queen" club or something. Although maybe we should. I'll need to send an invite to Sara."

She wished that she could take the words back the moment they'd left her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. Not that that had never happened to her before but the look that she received from him as he took in what she'd said made her heart beat painfully.

"I'm sor – sorry," she stuttered, "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

Silence stretched between them as she waited for him to say something, anything, in regard to her ridiculous faux pas. She hadn't intended to insult him. She had, of course, with her big mouth and lack of filter. It wasn't as if her words weren't true, though. They, the Lance sisters and herself, had all been left damaged by Oliver. In completely different ways, of course, but it was true just the same. He had broken her heart many times over, probably without realizing he was even doing it, but her words had been unintentionally cruel.

"Have I?"

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide as she tried to determine if she'd actually said her thoughts aloud.

He continued, "Have I damaged you, Felicity? Have I hurt you? I know that I've said things and I –"

"Oliver, I'm sorry. Really, I didn't mean that. I mean, yes, okay, so you've hurt my feelings a little but it's not your fault. You've never promised me anything. We're friends, that's all we've ever been. It's not your fault that I have these feelings for you that I shouldn't have.

She immediately wished that she could bury her face in a pillow. She hadn't meant to go as far as she had. She hadn't meant to tell him about her feelings. Oliver didn't do feelings. At least, he didn't with her. That wasn't the kind of relationship that they had.

"It isn't as if I haven't figured it out, Felicity," he told her, the hand that had, at some point, settled on her knee squeezed gently, "I know that I've pushed you away. I thought that… I don't know. I just thought that I needed to keep you safe. I should never have brought you into all of this. I put you in danger the moment that I decided to come to you for help."

She shook her head and began to protest but he stopped her.

"I wouldn't take it back for a second. Bomb collars and Vertigo and landmines, I wouldn't take any of it back. I couldn't do what I do without you. I've made mistakes along the way, mistakes that have hurt you, and I'm sorry for that. But I'm starting to think that maybe the biggest mistake that I've made so far is trying to keep this distance between us."

She stared at him, unable to find the words to ask him what exactly he was saying. She wasn't certain that she understood.

"Felicity when I told you that you wouldn't lose me, I meant it. I'm not going anywhere. If anything I – I think maybe I'm ready for things to change. I want to let you in."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: First and foremost, thanks again for the reviews! They definitely encourage me to continue with this! Second, this is where we're going to get a little AU (not that we aren't already considering the whole Oliver/Sara debacle never happened here) but I haven't seen all of 2x14 "Time of Death". I got the gist, of course, but I've only seen about the last 20 minutes or so. Guess that means I'm going to make some of this up as I go along

**Not Another Mistake**

"_Felicity when I told you that you wouldn't lose me, I meant it. I'm not going anywhere. If anything I – I think maybe I'm ready for things to change. I want to let you in."_

She opened her mouth to say something, to ask him for an explanation that didn't leave her feeling like she was hearing him underwater, but her phone chose that moment to go off and startle them both. Glancing at the screen, she was met with Lance's name.

"It's Detective Lance," she told him, handing him the phone, "He's calling for the vigilante."

Oliver sighed and took the phone from her, "Just – Just wait, please."

He stood, crossing the room to the window that led to the fire escape, before answering Lance's call. Voice modulator on, he greeted Lance the same way that he always did.

"Detective."

She couldn't hear what Detective Lance was telling him, but she watched Oliver's reaction. His shoulders were tense, his words clipped as he asked for more information. When he mentioned Starling City Savings and Loan, her ears perked up. From what little she was getting, there'd been a bank robbery that Lance somehow believed the vigilante could help with. That told her that it wasn't a run of the mill robbery. A few short sentences later, he disconnected the call. She waited for him to turn back to her but he remained at the window.

"Oliver?"

She knew that the moment between them was over. Whatever he'd been trying to tell her, it was now sitting on the back burner. The case that had been handed to them would take precedent. She wasn't going anywhere, he knew that. Their conversation could wait.

"I should go."

She sighed, nodding to herself, and got to her feet. When he finally turned away from the window, she couldn't quite read the expression on his face. The mask that she was used to had slipped back into place.

"I'll start digging into the police report," she told him, "See what I can find. Did Lance say why he was calling you, specifically? I mean, we don't generally do bank robberies."

He shrugged, "Apparently the guy is a ghost. He electronically hacks the vault to gain access. And he's good. He's left nothing behind. Apparently SCPD's cybercrimes unit isn't as good as the vigilante's IT girl."

She grinned at that and one corner of his mouth lifted in a familiar smirk. That little spark of hope that she was used to feeling around him shot through her again. For the first time in a long time, she didn't fight it.

"We can work on it tomorrow, though. It's been a long day. You should get some sleep."

She didn't respond as she followed him toward the door. Keeping a safe distance between them, she watched him put his shoes back on and pull on his coat. He reached for the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. After a moment, he turned to her.

"Thank you for dinner, Felicity," he said softly, "And I meant what I said. It's time for things to change."

She felt her heart stutter when he lifted his hand to her face, his thumb brushing across the swell of her cheek for just a second. Her eyes drifted closed as warmth seeped through her where they touched. When his lips brushed across her forehead, she shivered involuntarily.

"Get some sleep," he murmured.

And then he was gone, closing her apartment door behind him. She stood frozen for a long minute, her legs unable to move as her brain struggled to figure out what had just happened between them. He had said that he wanted things to change but she hadn't expected them to change so quickly.

"How exactly does he expect me to sleep after that?" she groaned, rolling her eyes at herself.

She retrieved her tablet from her bag before heading back to the couch. Oliver was right. It had been a long day. It had been brutal and emotionally, she was exhausted. But her mind was running in overdrive trying to analyze what he'd been saying to her before they'd been interrupted. Was he, in his own roundabout way, trying to tell her that she wasn't the only one who had feelings that they shouldn't be having? She shook her head and pulled up Oliver's calendar for the following day. They would be busy at QC with board meetings and potential investor meetings and she knew that Oliver would not have time for anything Arrow related. She opened multiple programs and, as quickly as she could, began running searches for anyone with the potential to be their bank robber. With that small step set up, she allowed herself a minute to dwell on the day that they had had.

Her conversation with Moira came back to her so fiercely that she recoiled into the back of her sofa. She had gone to Oliver's mother with the intention of giving her the benefit of the doubt. She had gone to her because she believed that, after having a hand in the destruction of the Glades and nearly destroying her family in the aftermath, Mrs. Queen had changed. She had believed that the matriarch of the Queen family would simply acknowledge what she had discovered and that she would agree that Oliver needed to know. Why she had been naïve enough to believe any of that, she isn't sure. She knew that Moira had a dark side, a side that they had all become familiar with in the time that Oliver had been back in Starling City. Hell, she had openly admitted that she didn't trust the woman. But she had hoped that, in confronting his mother, she would take responsibility for the mistake that she had made and come clean to her son. She certainly hadn't expected to be threatened. Now, she realized, that she should've expected it.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the couch.

"_If you won't keep my secret for Oliver's sake, you should keep it for your own… I see the way you look at him. If you tell him this, it will rip his world apart."_

And it had. She had seen it in his eyes the moment she'd revealed to him the secret that she'd been keeping. She had watched him walk to the podium at his mother's rally, had seen the struggle in his eyes as he tried to compose himself in front of the crowd. The agony that had shown in his eyes had made the tears fall from her own. She had felt as if her heart was breaking as his world crashed down around him.

"_And a part of him will always blame you. Oh, he'll hate me for sure. But he will hate you, too."_

She shook her head. Moira Queen would not manipulate her. She would not allow Oliver's mother to have the least bit of control over her. It was done. She had told him the truth and he'd assured her that it was okay, that she'd done the right thing. And she trusted Oliver.

Her phone vibrated, skittering across the surface of the coffee table as she reached for it. It was a text from Oliver.

_Go to sleep, Felicity. Why is your light still on?_

She read the words twice, a smile pulling at her lips as she tapped out a response.

_I'm going now. Go home. Stalker._

She took her tablet and her phone, everything she would need for the night, and turned off the living room light on her way to her bedroom. Her phone buzzed in her hand.

_I wouldn't call it stalking. Goodnight._

She laughed, depositing her electronics on the nightstand on her way to the bathroom. She washed her face and brushed her teeth, unable to keep the grin off of her face as she did so. She wasn't used to this side of Oliver, this playful sweet side, but she liked it just the same. When she slid under the covers and settled in for the four hours of sleep she could possibly get, she couldn't help saying a little prayer that he wouldn't change his mind. That he really would let her in. The last thing she thought of before falling asleep was the feel of Oliver's lips on her forehead.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Again, you guys are awesome! The reviews definitely keep me going! It's been a while since I've written a story like this and I haven't actually written one for this fandom so it's odd but I'm going to keep going as long as I can. I thought Sara and Felicity needed to have a little bonding moment so here it is. Enjoy

**Not Another Mistake**

She sat on the med table in the basement for the first time. Her shoulder was still throbbing even as the medication that Digg had given her made the room around her spin. She was thankful that it was Sara stitching up the wound in her shoulder. She was glad it wasn't Oliver. In the three days since he'd gotten the initial call from Lance, they'd hardly had a minute to themselves. That meant that they hadn't talked. Their conversation had all but died and she still didn't know what exactly he'd meant about wanting things to change. Not only that, she knew that he was mad at her now.

She sighed, closing her eyes and breathing slowly through her nose to hold off the nausea that threatened to make her lunch reappear.

When she'd gotten the lead on Tockman, her head had been a jumbled mess. She'd been running on fumes after spending hours trying to rebuild the mess that the madman had made of her babies. She hadn't been thinking rationally. And okay, sure, maybe she'd been feeling a little left out after watching Oliver and Sara and Diggle sparring for hours on end, after hearing them compare their scars. She knew, had known since the beginning, that she was the weakest link on the team but having Sara around only made that more obvious.

"Hey, you okay?"

She glanced up, everything in front of her slipping sideways for just a moment before coming back into focus. Sara was looking down at her with concern.

She nodded, "I'm good. Can't feel a thing."

Sara smirked.

"That isn't what I meant. I just mean… you were shot, Felicity. I'm going to take a guess and assume that that's not something that's happened to you before. I know it can be scary."

She had to try to remember not to shrug. It was a natural reaction. Sara was right. Being shot had been scary. But it was more than that. She'd seen the gun, had seen it aimed at Sara, and she'd reacted. From what little she knew of Sara Lance, she definitely liked her more than her gorgeous sister.

"I couldn't let him shoot you," she told her eventually, "The only reason that any of you were there was because of me."

Sara shook her head, "I don't know where Ollie found you, but he's lucky to have you."

Her eyes flitted to the two men in her life. Digg and Oliver stood shoulder to shoulder, their backs to the med table, their heads tilted together as they spoke quietly. She could only imagine what they were saying. She knew that Oliver was upset. She'd known it the moment that he arrived at the bank. She'd heard it in his voice, in the way that he growled at her.

She shivered.

"He was really worried about you, you know."

She didn't turn to Sara. Instead, she kept her eyes on the back of Oliver's head.

"He thinks that I can't take care of myself. I know that I'm a liability but Tockman – he just … I don't know," she sighed, "He just made me feel like I don't belong here."

Sara paused, "You're not a liability. Not at all. You're stronger than all of us in your own way, Felicity. You're smart, eerily so, and that's your greatest strength. And I know that Tockman got under your skin but you beat him. Because you're just that damn brilliant."

She didn't know how to respond to Sara's compliment. She was well aware of the fact that she was intelligent, it was the only reason that Oliver kept her around. He needed her because God knew he was useless when it came to technology. And hacking. Oliver couldn't hack into his own email account let alone government databases. But she wasn't like them, Oliver and Digg and Sara. She couldn't defend herself in a fight, she couldn't fire a gun or handle a staff. She was useless to them unless there was a computer involved.

"Ollie can be a little … stubborn sometimes. Especially when it comes to the people that he cares about. He gets it in his head that it's his duty to protect you, even if he's protecting you from something that would actually be good for you, for both of you. I see that with you. I see the way that he looks at you. He cares about you, Felicity, more than he's willing to admit. He was mad when he realized where you were, yes, but more than that he was scared. Terrified. Ollie isn't willing to lose you."

It took longer than it should've for her to realize that Sara had finished stitching the small wound in her shoulder. She couldn't get her words out of her head. Of course she knew that Oliver was stubborn. She'd known that within the first couple of encounters that they'd had. She also knew that Sara was right. Oliver had told her once that he couldn't be with someone that he truly cared about because of the life that he led. She'd wanted to believe that his words had been directed at her, that he knew then how much she wanted there to be something more between them. And when she'd actually let herself believe that he had been talking about her, about them, she'd been angry. What gave him the right to deny her something because he thought it would be best for her? Oliver's desire to keep her and Digg and Thea and Laurel safe, it could be suffocating.

"The night that he saved me from the Count… I convinced myself then that he'd only come for me because I'm his Girl Friday. He didn't want to lose me because we're partners. Because he needs me to do all of this."

She gestured around the room with her uninjured arm and suddenly everything was spinning again. Sara's gentle hand on her shoulder steadied her.

"Oliver came for you because you're his hope. This bright, shiny beacon that calls out to him when the darkness tries to consume him. I know because I see it, too. Not in the same way that he does, of course, but I see it. You're kind and brilliant and selfless, all of these things that he strives to be but knows that he never can be. And he's drawn to you. Don't let him tell you anything different. Ollie needs you, Felicity, but he wants you, too. There's a difference," Sara assured her.

Her eyes slipped closed and she swallowed the tears that were suddenly threatening to fall from her eyes. She liked Sara. Sara was a good person. A trained assassin, yes, but she was still one of the good guys. And she was good for Oliver. She was his friend. But she'd been more than that, too. They had a history that she couldn't deny. Oliver and Sara had literally survived Purgatory together. She couldn't compete with that.

"You don't have to," Sara said softly, "There's no competition between us. Ollie and I are friends, nothing more. He doesn't need me, or want me. He has you."

She hadn't realized that she'd even said the words aloud but she wasn't surprised. On a good day her brain to mouth filter didn't work properly but with a bullet hole in her shoulder and painkillers pumping through her veins, she had absolutely no control.

"Can we be friends, too?" she asked, her eyes still closed.

She could hear the smile in Sara's voice.

"I sort of thought that we already were."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Apologies for the delay in posting. For some reason, this one took me a while to get through… and I'm honestly not sure that I like it. But, it is what it is. The next chapter will hopefully come a little easier.

**Not Another Mistake**

When she looked up again, Sara was gone, leaving her alone with Digg and Oliver who were suddenly looking at her expectantly. Her eyes met Oliver's and she was unable to look away. The silence that surrounded them was deafening.

Oliver cast a glance at Digg and she watched as some unspoken conversation took place between them. Digg crossed the lair until he stood just in front of her. His hand found her uninjured shoulder, squeezing gently, and she smiled in an attempt to assure him that she really was okay. He gave her a short nod and then he was gone, too. She was alone with Oliver.

He moved toward her.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice taking on that gentle tone that he seemed to reserve specifically for her, "Digg mentioned that maybe you were feeling a little left out."

She gaped at him, anger flaring inside of her because John Diggle had gone and opened his big mouth. She should never have said anything in the first place. And she hadn't really, but John know her well enough to know what was really bothering her.

"No. No, I just –" she tried to think of something to say that wouldn't sound pathetic or needy but the drugs that Digg had given her were limiting her ability to think clearly, "It's just that I – I'm used to be your girl. Well, not your _girl_ but just, you know, your girl. I know it sounds like the same word but it means something different in my head."

Oliver smiled, his warm hand coming up to brush back the hair that had come loose from her ponytail. When his fingers skimmed her jaw and settled on the side of her neck, she felt some of the tension she'd been holding on to melt away. She leaned into his touch, unable to stop the contented sound that escaped her.

"You will always be my girl, Felicity."

She blinked up at him. The conviction in his tone surprised her. She couldn't be sure exactly what it meant and her head was too jumbled to try to figure it out.

"Come on, I'll take you home."

She nodded, taking his hand as he helped her down. She swayed and Oliver's arm wound around her waist to steady her. Not for the first time she noticed the clean and somewhat spicy scent that clung to him. His body was warm and solid against hers as the moved slowly to the door and his nearness set her heart racing. She worried her lip between her teeth and forced her mind to focus on something other than the way that she fit at his side.

When she stumbled slightly, Oliver's arm tightened around her.

"Remind me to tell Digg that, if you need them again, only one of those aspirin."

She laughed, "I like two. Two is good."

He shook his head but he was grinning as he held the passenger door of his car open for her. As soon as it was closed, she rested her head against the cool window. Her eyes slipped closed again, exhaustion setting in as the stress of the day suddenly washed over her.

"You scared the hell out of me today."

She lifted her head and shifted in her seat so that she could face him. He never averted his gaze as he drove, his eyes locked on the road ahead of them, but she watched his hands flex as they gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly. She opened her mouth to assure him yet again that she was fine but the words wouldn't come. The ache in her shoulder was minimal but it was there nonetheless and every bone in her body suddenly felt as if it were made of lead. The adrenaline spike that she'd felt early was gone. She was quickly crashing.

"I thought – I thought that I was going to lose you tonight."

His confession surprised her slightly. She knew that it wasn't easy for him to admit when he was worried or afraid. He wore a mask of confidence, of fearlessness, even in the face of his greatest adversaries, so for him to admit that her actions had frightened him, she knew that it was a difficult thing for him to say.

"I'm sorry. It's just that … My role in all of this is tech support, you know? I'm here because I'm good at what I do. My systems are supposed to be top-notch. They're supposed to be un-hackable - which yes, I know, it's not a real word - but that's how I built them. No one should be able to get in but somehow he did and it made me feel… it made me feel like I hadn't done my job. Like I wasn't good enough," she bit her tongue to stem the flow of words that wanted to continue.

Oliver reached across the center console and gripped one of her hands in his own. She turned her palm up and wound their fingers together.

"Felicity, you are so much more than _tech support_," he told her, his voice thick with some unidentifiable emotion, "I've said this to you before and I want you to believe me. I cannot do what I do without you. You keep me going, Felicity, you help me find my way when sometimes all I want to do is get lost. It's your belief in me that keeps me grounded. If you weren't here… if you weren't here, I wouldn't be who I am. I'd probably still be a killer. Or still on that God forsaken island. You have this unshakeable faith in me, faith that what we're doing is the right thing, that I'm a good man, and I don't know that I deserve it but it's that faith that I need to get through all of this."

There were tears in her eyes and she had to blink them away. His words caused warmth to bloom in her chest and spread outward, like the roots of a tree into the earth, taking hold of her soul and refusing to let go. She couldn't help but fall in love with him a little more as each moment passed between them. She wasn't sure if it was an affect of the drug that she'd been given or if it was just him, but her emotions were going haywire. She loved him, she had for a long time.

She squeezed his fingers where they were entwined on her thigh, his thumb stroking across her knuckles soothingly. There was so much that needed to be said, so much that they still needed to discuss, but she knew that tonight wouldn't be the right time. Her drug addled brain could only handle so much and she was certain that she'd already reached her limit. They still hadn't actually talked about what he'd meant about wanting things to change. She had a feeling she knew by the way that he was trying to open up to her, the way he held her hand and the way he'd touched her face. Not for the first time she had seen the concern in his eyes as he'd looked at her but it had been different this time. He hadn't tried to hide it from her. He had let her see his fear, his worry. He was changing right before her eyes and she had only just realized it.

He parked in the lot beside her building and came around to her door to help her out. With his arm securely around her waist, he led her inside. The silence between them stretched on as they rode the elevator to her floor and walked the length of the hallway to her apartment.

"Thank you," she said softly, keys clutched in her hand, "For bringing me home. And – and for coming to get me tonight."

He watched her for a long moment before his hand came up to the side of her face. She leaned into his touch again, just as she had in the foundry, and Oliver smiled.

"I will always come for you, Felicity. I told you, I can't lose you."

He bent to brush his lips gently across her forehead, the action sending a chill down her spine, before he extricated her keys from her grasp and opened the door. He ushered her inside, waiting as she lost her shoes in the entryway, and followed her through the small apartment toward her bedroom. She stopped at the door and turned to him.

"You don't have to stay."

He shrugged, "I know. I just wanted to make sure you made it home okay."

"Well, I'm here now," she told him, gesturing around uncomfortably, "So, yeah, safe and sound. You can go. I'll see you at work."

For a second she was sure he was going to argue but he seemed to settle on letting her have the final say.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow. But you're not coming into the office. Don't argue. Trust me, you're shoulder is going to feel a lot worse in the morning. Just call Digg or me if you need something but you should stay home and rest."

She nodded. She knew that arguing would be pointless. He was right. Her shoulder was going to hurt in the morning and just the idea of sitting at her desk for hours trying to type with one hand made her cringe.

"Goodnight, Felicity."

His lips brushed her forehead again, lingering a little longer than necessary, and then he was gone and she was alone with thoughts of Oliver Queen swirling around inside of her head. As usual.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: We're switching back to Oliver's POV for the next couple of chapters. For some reason, its easier to write his POV than Felicity's… anyhow, here you go

**Not Another Mistake**

When his phone rang at 10 a.m. the next morning in the middle of a meeting with the Applied Sciences division, he didn't hesitate to answer it.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked while the other meeting attendants looked on.

Her response was quiet, the normally bright tone of her voice lost to the pain and unshed tears that were clearly evident.

"It hurts."

He sighed, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to rein in the emotion that her confession brought on. He knew that he could ask John to go and check on her, that he wouldn't mind in the slightest, but she hadn't called John. She'd called him. And even though his schedule was full, packed with back to back conference calls and meetings like the one that he was currently sitting in, Felicity was his priority, her health and wellbeing above all else.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll be there as soon as I can. Just try to rest."

He disconnected the call and turned his attention back to the head of the department.

"Sorry, Ray, bit of a family emergency. Please continue."

He noticed the curious look on Diggle's face at his explanation but he only shrugged. It was as close to the truth as he'd been able to get. He couldn't very well have announced that he'd been having what was clearly a personal conversation with his assistant. But in a way, his words had been true. Felicity was family, as close to it as she could be without having his last name.

His mind tripped over the thought. Felicity wasn't a Queen, not yet, but that didn't mean that she couldn't be someday. He knew that their future was undetermined, that anything could happen, but did that include a moment where she truly would become his family? Would there be a time when she would wear his ring on her finger? When she would carry their child inside of her? He couldn't be sure but the image that his mind had conjured of their potential future together took his breath away.

"Mr. Queen?"

He glanced up at the room around him. The temp filling in for Felicity sat to his right and she was looking at him expectantly. He had to rack his brain for a moment to recall the question that had been directed at him.

"Let's set a five week timeline and I'll have Miss Smoak submit the budget approval to finance as soon as she's back in the office."

The meeting wrapped up not long after his declaration, everyone filing from the room apart from Diggle, Felicity's temporary replacement and himself. He turned to the woman beside him.

"Mrs. Hansen, I'm going to need to clear my schedule for the remainder of the day," he told her, "And if you could please have everything rescheduled, I'd appreciate it as will Miss Smoak when she returns."

He followed Digg wordlessly to the elevator. When the doors closed, sealing them off from the rest of QC, John turned to him.

"I could've gone to check on her."

He shrugged, "I know."

He watched the numbers above the door as they descended toward the parking garage. He appreciated the fact that Diggle didn't press him. Explaining his reasons for wanting to be the one to take care of Felicity was not something that he was interested in doing. Although he was fairly certain that an explanation wasn't actually required. Diggle had, on more than one occasion, pointed out how important Felicity was to the team, how important she was in general.

"How'd she sound?" he asked as the doors opened again.

"Like she was in pain. We'll have to stop by Verdant to pick up supplies."

Just over an hour after her initial phone call, he found himself standing at her front door. He stood there with his tie hanging loosely around his neck, his discarded jacket left in the backseat of the car and enough painkillers on his person to hold her over for the next three days. He should've made sure that she'd had what she needed before he'd brought her home the evening before. She wasn't like him. He'd survived far worse than a gunshot wound without the aid of narcotics. He was used to the pain. But this was Felicity and he hadn't been thinking clearly. He'd been so grateful that she'd been alive, that he hadn't lost her, that his common sense had left him.

He knocked carefully on her door, not wanting to wake her if she had managed to go back to sleep, and waited. When she hadn't answered after nearly five minutes, he made quick work of picking the lock and let himself in. He left his shoes by the door, beside the heels she'd kicked off when he'd gotten her home, and tried not to get distracted yet again by the picture that their footwear made.

He found her on the couch, curled into a tight ball as she slept, her injured arm cradle to her chest. He set the supplies that he'd brought on the floor at his feet and sat on the coffee table.

"Felicity."

She didn't stir. He reached out and touched her hair, his fingers trailing down the side of her face briefly.

"Felicity, wake up."

He spoke a little louder and she hummed in her sleep, her face turning into his palm once again. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. He had spent so long fighting the feelings that he had for her, the inexplicable pull that he'd felt the moment that he met her, but it was becoming clear to him that he couldn't keep pushing her away.

He was worried about her though, about her safety, about her physical and mental health. More often than not she spent fourteen hours a day with him, either at the office in her role as his EA or at the foundry, being his partner. He knew that she wasn't getting enough sleep, he could see the bags under her eyes that her make-up couldn't hide. He was well aware of the fact that she ate way more take-out that what could really be healthy and he knew that she never really had time to just relax. And while she never complained about him hijacking her time, he wanted to find a way to make it up to her. He wanted to find a way to give her a little bit of her life back but he wasn't sure how to do that when he wanted so badly for their relationship to change. He wanted to spend more time with her, not less, but in a different capacity.

"Oliver?"

She blinked up at him, shifting slightly as she struggled to sit up. He reached for her, his hand sliding around to the back of her neck as he gently lifted her so that her back rested against the arm of her couch.

"Hi."

She smiled, "Hi."

"Have you taken anything today? For the pain?"

She shrugged and immediately cringed at the shot of pain that the movement no doubt caused.

"I've got to remember not to do that," she ground out, "But to answer your question, I took some Advil this morning but that's all that I have."

He spent the next few moments retrieving a glass of water from her kitchen and offering her more of the _aspirin _that Digg had given her before. He sat back on the edge of the couch beside her and reached for her shoulder, pushing the strap of her tank top aside so that he could remove the bandage covering her sutures.

She flinched when he peeled the tape away.

"I just need to clean the wound and make sure it isn't getting infected," he murmured, gentling his movements as he applied a sterile saline solution to the small hole that would leave a scar on her porcelain skin, "I'll be quick."

She remained motionless as he wiped down the area around the entrance would. He was thankful that it hadn't been a through and through, that she would only have one small scar rather than two. He ground his teeth together as he remembered in great detail the panic that had coursed through him when Sara had told him that Felicity had been shot. He hadn't been able to get to them fast enough.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, her eyes imploring when he looked up at her, "You've got your angry face going on."

He couldn't help the lift of his lips at that.

"Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking that this shouldn't have happened. Not to you. I should've been there. I'm sorry."

She sighed, "Please don't do that. I hate it when you get all guilt-trippy on me. It wasn't your fault, Oliver. I was the one who went to the bank without you, remember? My decision, not yours. And you won't always be there to protect me from every little thing. I'm going to get a paper cut every now and then and there won't be a damn thing that you can do about it."

She grinned but he frowned. He didn't like the fact that she was joking about it, about the fact that she'd taken a built in the shoulder that was meant for Sara. There was nothing funny about her being hurt. He could've very easily lost her. If she hadn't moved as quickly as she had, if the gun had been aimed just a few inches to the left, she wouldn't be sitting at home in her pajamas resting. She'd probably be on a metal slab with a sheet pulled over her beautiful face.

He shuddered at the grotesque image.

"It's not funny."

The words came out more harshly than he'd intended them to and she the smile fell from her face. She lifted her hand to his shoulder, squeezing him with the same reassurance that he often offered to her.

"I'm okay, Oliver," she said softly, "I'm here. Yes, it hurts and yes, it was pretty damn terrifying, but I'm okay."

He continued to stare at her, his mind churning. She was so close, her skin soft and warm beneath his fingers, and more than anything he wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go. He was moving forward before he could really process the implications and when her face tipped up so that her eyes could follow his movement, he captured her lips with his.

She gasped into his mouth, her body stiffening for just a moment before her good arm came up to wrap around his neck. He held her close, his hand finding purchase in the middle of her back and pressing her forward against his chest as his lips slanted over hers.

For the first time since the moment that he'd met her, he was giving in to his desire and he had no plans to stop.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Wow, so I am so so sorry that this took forever! I'm actually out of town on a business trip so unfortunately my muse decided she was staying home. I'm not even sure how I finished this chapter… anyway, the next couple may come a little far apart, at least until I get home. Thanks for sticking with me!

**Not Another Mistake**

He was too caught up in the moment to think about what it meant, what crossing that line with Felicity would do to their friendship, to the team. In that moment, nothing was more important than having her in his arms. The soft whimpers that escaped her only encouraged him and, before he could stop himself, he was laying her back on her sofa, his body coming down over hers.

It was only when a painful gasp escaped her that he realized what he'd been doing.

He pulled away. Levering himself up on his elbows, he stared down her. The color in her cheeks knocked the air from his lungs. Her hair was tousled. Her limps red and swollen and the line of her jaw was reddened from his abrasive facial hair. She was more beautiful then than he'd ever seen her. The passion that he saw in her eyes emboldened him.

"Your shoulder…"

"Is perfectly fine. Just a little jostled. I'm okay, Oliver."

"We should probably talk," he told her, brushing the hair from her face, "I'm so-"

"Don't you dare apologize. Did I try to stop you? Did you see me resisting? Oliver, I – I've wanted this for a long time. I've wanted you. I _do _want you."

They lay that way for a long while, neither of them moving until Oliver's shoulders began to ache from the effort of keeping his body from crushing hers. Eventually, he sat up, taking her with him, and tucking her into his side. She pulled her feet up beneath her and her head fell to his shoulder.

"What are we doing? I know that we agreed that things had to change but what we just did makes me think that they already have. What prompted this? Where is it coming from?"

He sighed, the arm that he'd draped around her shoulders pulling her infinitesimally closer. She deserved the truth. Of all of the people in his life, Felicity was the most difficult to lie to. He was certain that, at some point in the time that they'd know each other, he had promised her that he would always be honest with her. And that promise meant that he would tell her things that weren't easy because she deserved to know. He trusted her to trust him. He believed in the faith that she had in him. And it was a faith that not many people shared.

"Sara and I… we made a mistake."

The moment that the words left his mouth her entire body tensed. He felt it when she tried to pull away from him but he only strengthened his hold. He couldn't lose her.

"It isn't what you think. We didn't - It didn't get that far. It could have but the minute that it started, I know that what we were about to do wouldn't be right. It couldn't possibly be right because as much as I care for Sara, what she and I once had could never work now. We're two completely different people. I'm not the kid that I was when I had an affair with her. I'm not the same man that cheated on Laurel with her little sister."

He swallowed hard, closing his eyes briefly as he braced himself to continue.

"I do care about Sara, it would be impossible for me not to after everything that she and I have been through, but there's someone in my life who's more important. If we had given in to that one moment of… whatever it was, we would've been hurting so many people that we love," he said softly, his voice trailing off.

Felicity didn't try to move away from him again and he took it as a good sign. He only hoped that she understood what he wasn't ready to say.

"It would've destroyed Laurel. I mean, after what happened before, with the Gambit and then when you came home without Sara, I can only imagine how devastated she would be if she found out that you and Sara were a couple again."

He sighed again, "Honestly, it wasn't just Laurel that I was worried about hurting. Felicity, I've made mistakes, more than I could even begin to count, but the biggest mistake that I've made since coming home from Lian Yu was hurting you. That night in Russia when you… when Isabel walked out of my hotel room, you looked at me like I'd just killed your best friend. I've never felt so ashamed of myself."

He watched as she nervously picked at her chipping nail polish, her hands resting in her lap.

"So you didn't sleep with Sara?" she muttered, her voice carrying a hint of hope that he would give her the answer that she needed to hear.

He was happy to provide it for her.

"No, I didn't. In fact, I had this voice in my head begging me not to be so stupid and to actually use my head for once. I'm pretty sure I've heard that voice before, generally through the comm link in my ear."

He smiled down at her but she had yet to lift her eyes from her hands.

"Oh."

He could sense her hesitation, could feel it in every tense muscle of her body where the was pressed against his side. The fact that he and Sara had almost crossed a line was clearly sitting heavily on her. It weighed equally on him. If they'd let it happen, if he hadn't pulled away when he had, everything would've fallen apart. He had seen the hurt in her eyes that night in Russia when things with Isabel had gotten out of hand and he hadn't been exaggerating when he had told her that he had never felt greater shame than in that moment. If he had made the same mistake with Sara, he knew that they would never have been able to recover. He was sure that it would've been the last straw and he would've pushed her away. At least, that had been what he'd been so afraid of.

Felicity was a fundamental part of his day to day existence, not only because she was his executive assistant but because she was his friend, his partner. She knew him better than anyone, sometimes better than he knew himself, and more often that not, she was his conscience. She was the voice of reason to their entire team, to their operation. He knew that moving day to day without her beside him wouldn't be living, it would merely be surviving. He didn't want to just survive anymore. Thinking back to the three weeks that she'd spent in Central City at Barry Allen's beside, he knew that losing her was not something that he could bear.

"Is it just me, or does this seem like it's going to be incredibly difficult?" she grumbled, her body finally relaxing as she sunk into his embrace, "Not that I thought that it would be easy. Not that anything with you is. It isn't that I've ever really thought about this in great detail or anything. But I mean, why would it be easy? You spend half of your time being the CEO of a billion dollar company and the other half chasing down the people trying to destroy this city with a bow and arrow. Nothing about your life is easy, is it?"

He couldn't help but chuckle as she rambled.

"It'll get easier. We'll figure it out. We're good at this, and finding the answers together."

She moved away slightly, easing herself out from under his arm so that she was facing him, a very narrow gap between them.

"Figure what out, exactly? We still haven't defined just what it is that we're doing here. Are we, you know, dating? Are we a couple? I need some clarification."

He shrugged, lifting his hand to the side of her face once again, and stroked his thumb across her lower lip. He saw her gaze flicker away from his eyes to his mouth. It was the briefest of movements but he saw it and the sight caused his heart to hammer in his chest. There was no denying the attraction between them, the physical pull that made resisting her so difficult for him, and he was thankful that he no longer had to deny what he felt. She was beautiful, it was evident to anyone with working eyes, but it wasn't only her physical beauty that made him want her.

Felicity was the light at the end of the tunnel. She was the heart of him, of their team. Her optimism, her enthusiasm, her brightness were all qualities that encouraged him to keep going. He knew that, without her, everything that he worked so hard for would be pointless.

"We can be whatever we want to be," he said softly, "But I don't want to keep dancing around whatever this is between us. I need you in my life, Felicity, in every way possible."

Her eyes widened slightly, glistening with unshed tears. He watched her face transform as she smiled at him, her joy warring with her surprise. It wasn't like him to be so open with her, so candid, but more than anyone, she deserved the truth. He'd kept so much of himself hidden, bottled deep inside because he feared her reaction. He worried that, if she only saw how black his soul truly was, she would leave him and he hadn't been willing to risk losing her. But she had never left. After all that they had been through, all that he'd done, she was still there. She was still there standing beside him, supporting him, believing in him. He wouldn't have blamed her if she'd chosen to leave and he was beyond thankful that she'd chosen to stay.

"And Sara? You really think… you think that she's going to be okay with us? With you and I being something other than what we've been?" she questioned.

He sighed, a smile tugging at his own lips. He wasn't surprised that it was Sara that Felicity was worried about. She was selfless. She cared so much about the feelings of those around her that she seemed to forget herself on occasion.

"Don't worry about Sara, Felicity. She isn't going to be hurt or jealous. In fact, I think she wants you and I to be together. I'm pretty sure that she thinks that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I don't think that I can argue with that logic."

She shook her head, "Who are you and what have you done with the real Oliver Queen?"

He leaned into her again, the hand on her face sliding into her hair and tangling with the blonde tresses at the nape of her neck. He tugged gently, tipping her head back to look down into her eyes. When her tongue peaked out to wet her lips and her eyes darted to his mouth again, he grinned.

"I'm right here, Felicity, and I'm not going anywhere."

He sealed his mouth over hers, cutting off the response he was sure he would've gotten otherwise.


	10. Chapter 10

**Not Another Mistake**

The next few weeks of their lives were infinitely more complicated, more so than Felicity could've imagined. She found herself watching Oliver with concern every minute that they were together, wondering when he was going to break. Slade was alive and a threat that they hadn't seen coming. He wouldn't hesitate to kill them, any of them, which had Oliver more on edge than normal. When he wasn't with her himself, it was Diggle who was shadowing her and it was driving her crazy.

She pulled her coat on over her pajamas, slipping her feet into a pair of fuzzy slippers before jogging down her front steps and out to the car parked at the curb. Opening the passenger side door, she slid into the car and handed John a cup of hot chocolate.

"This is ridiculous," she pointed out, "Have you been out here all night?"

He shrugged, "He's worried about you, Felicity, and so am I. You're not safe on your own. If Slade figures out that you and Oliver are…"

She waved a hand at him, "Undefined."

John grinned.

"If he figures out how important you are to Oliver, he won't hesitate to take you out."

She sighed, "If Slade wants to kill me, John, he can. There's nothing that you can do to stop it."

"I just want to make sure that you're okay."

"And I love you for that, but I'm fine. Go home."

He shook his head and handed back the mug.

"Oliver isn't going to like it if I leave you alone," he told her.

She rolled her eyes as she climbed out of the car, "Don't worry about Oliver, I'll talk to him."

She went up the front steps and entered the warmth of her home. Going to the window, she waited until John pulled away before she picked up her phone.

_I don't need a bodyguard. John isn't any safer than I am._

His response was almost immediate.

_Good morning to you, too, Felicity. It's just a precaution. And John volunteered._

She rolled her eyes.

_If something happens to him because he's trying to protect me, I'll never forgive myself._

She waited for his response, carrying her phone and John's mug into the kitchen. She was standing at the counter pouring herself a cup of coffee when her phone rang. Glancing down, she saw Oliver's face light up her screen and she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips.

"Hi."

"I need to make sure that you're safe, Felicity, please don't fight me on this," he urged.

She sighed, "I get it but I don't want any of you to get distracted by trying to keep me safe. I appreciate that you want to protect me and that John wants me to be safe, but if anything happened to any of you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

She was met with silence and for a moment she wondered if she'd lost him. When he spoke, however, the emotion in his voice overwhelmed her.

"I can't lose you. If Slade finds out how much I need you, he'll take you away from me. That can't happen. I won't let it happen."

She sat down heavily on a stool at the breakfast bar. With her phone cradled against her ear, she sat with her hands wrapped around the warm ceramic of her mug.

"I don't want to lose you either, Oliver. When you called that night and Sara heard Slade, when we all saw how terrified she was, I was so worried. And then we figured out where you were, that he was at your house with your mother and Thea, Oliver I was scared and I couldn't even do anything to help you."

The moment that he'd come back into the foundry that evening, she'd thrown herself into his arms and she'd felt a sense of relief that she hadn't felt since the night that Barry had saved his life. She'd been trapped in the foundry all alone, worrying that – at any moment – she would have to listen to a fight between Slade and Oliver that could've easily taken him away from her. She had been so worried that she would never see him again.

"Just knowing that you're there for me is enough. Knowing that you're waiting for me is enough. I love knowing that I have you to come home to."

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks at his words even though he wasn't there to see her blush.

"Oliver…"

"I just want to know that you're safe and short of keeping you with me twenty-four seven, having John looking out for you is the only way that I can do that, Felicity."

She shook her head, staring down into her coffee. She wanted to tell him the same thing that she'd told John, that if Slade wanted to kill her, he could and there was nothing that any of them could do about it. She wanted to tell him that but she didn't. There was no point in starting an argument.

"It's going to be okay. We'll find Slade and you'll stop him. I know you will," she assured him.

He sighed, "How do you know? Why are you so sure that we'll get through this?"

"Because I know you, Oliver. I trust you. I have faith in you. We'll be okay."

He sighed, "I can't figure out what I've done to deserve that trust."

She smiled, wishing that he were there with her, that he was sitting beside her so that she could rest her head on his shoulder or press her lips to his jaw. She wanted to comfort him, she wanted to be there for him because she could hear the wariness in his voice. Oliver was scared. She'd never seen fear like this in his eyes but every time they spoke about Slade and what his return meant, she saw a terror in his eyes that made her wonder if this would be the end of them. She couldn't tell him that she was afraid, that she worried about him every time he put on his hood and left her sight. Slade Wilson could kill him, she was perfectly aware of that, of the power that he had, but she couldn't let her fear control her. She had to put on her normal, optimistic face because the last thing that Oliver needed was one more person fueling his fear.

"Don't go to work today," he suggested, "I want to see you."

She smirked, "Well if you actually show up and play the part of CEO, you will see me. You know, your Executive Assistant is with you all day long."

"I can't… I can't be there today. I just can't. But I need you with me. I can pick you up in an hour."

She glanced at the clock on her microwave. She contemplated telling him no, telling him that they both needed to make an appearance at Queen Consolidated today, but she couldn't do it. She missed him and he was proposing spending the day together, just the two of them. She didn't have the heart to say no to him.

"Okay," she conceded, "Where are we going?"

She could practically hear him shrug, "Anywhere. Nowhere. It doesn't matter."

She sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, and carried her cup to the sink. Of course he wouldn't have a destination in mind. Not that she minded making their day up on the fly, but she did need to know how to dress.

"Can we take the motorcycle?"

She wished that she could see the surprise on his face. She had yet to get on the back of the bike, not that he'd suggested it, but a small part of her had been wondering what it would be like to ride it with him, to be that close to him while adrenaline coursed through her. It was going to be a chilly day but even the prospect of cold air whipping across her face appealed to her.

"Are you sure?" he asked, "You won't hack on me, right?"

She laughed, "I'll try not to."

She padded down the hall to her bedroom, heading straight for her closet. Oliver was quiet on the other end of the line but she wasn't ready to disconnect the call. She sifted through her closet, looking for something warm enough and appropriate for being on the back of the motorcycle. She pulled a sweater from the hanger, one that she had worn a million times over during the winters she'd spent at school in Boston, and tossed it onto her bed.

"Felicity?"

She paused in pulled her pajama top over her head, "Yes, Oliver?"

"Thank you."

She cocked her head to the side, confused as to what he was thanking her for. She hadn't done anything.

"For what?"

He exhaled heavily, "For having faith in me."

She blinked to chase away the tears that were suddenly welling in her eyes. There were times when she couldn't believe how vulnerable he was, how helpless he could be. Oliver was always the strong one, the one that fought through the pain, who took on every battle head on. But there were times when he needed someone there for him, someone to remind him that he wasn't alone. And there were times when he really just needed someone to remind him that he wasn't a monster.

"You're welcome. And Oliver? Nothing is going to change that. Nothing that happens or has happened will change how I feel. I believe in what you're doing and I know that you can do it."

He cleared his throat, "I'll be there in an hour, okay?"

"Okay, I'll see you then. Bye, Oliver."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **Thank you all for sticking with me on this one! I actually feel like this chapter turned out a lot better than I'd been expecting. There's a little bit of Felicity's backstory here and this is the conversation that I think should've happened in 2x16 "Suicide Squad". Felicity's a much better support system for Oliver than Sara… not that I'm biased or anything. Enjoy!

**Not Another Mistake**

They rode Oliver's bike out of the city with her pressed up against him, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. Which, she supposed, it did. If she weren't holding onto him – wrapped around him like a vine would've been a more accurate description - there would be nothing anchoring her to the powerful piece of machinery between her legs. She'd been right about the adrenaline rush, at least: about the way that it made her heart pound painfully in her chest and made her limbs tingle. It had taken at least twenty miles of riding for her to relax and enjoy the way that it made her feel. She imagined that she would've enjoyed the feeling that time that she'd jumped out of a plane with Diggle if it hadn't been for the ground rushing up to meet them as they fell. The thought alone was enough to make her stomach roil.

Oliver maneuvered the bike with ease and the knowledge that he knew what he was doing certainly helped. He was careful, keeping his speed reasonable and not taking the curves at a rate that made her want to hack.

He slowed, making a slight right onto a tree lined road and she lifted her head from his shoulder to look around. When the cabin and lake came into view, she tightened her already vice-like grip on the man in front of her. Oliver didn't acknowledge her reaction as he steered the bike around the back of the cabin and out of view of the road.

When he parked the bike, the hum of the engine fading away, neither of them moved. She had no idea where they were or what they were doing but there were butterflies dancing in her stomach.

"Can you get down?" Oliver asked, the sound of his voice startling her.

She nodded, stumbling slightly as she climbed off of the bike and began removing the helmet that he'd insisted she wear. She held the item awkwardly in front of her as she watched him dismount the motorcycle with ease. He took the bulky headgear from her and set it on the seat before taking her hand. She was surprised when he led her away from the small cabin that looked as if it had seen better days and down towards the dock where a single row boat was moored.

"What is this place?"

She could no longer hear the traffic from the main road, the only sounds meeting her ears coming from the trees that surrounded them. If she didn't know better, she would've been worried about being so secluded from the rest of the world. If he was anyone other than Oliver, she would've been afraid.

"Lance's old fishing cabin. We used to come out here when…"

She cast a furtive glance at him, her eyes asking a question that she really didn't need the answer to. He'd come here with Laurel in the past, or maybe Sara, when they needed somewhere private that they could do… whatever it was that they wanted to do. She shivered and Oliver tugged her closer to his side.

"I'm sorry but it's the only place that I could think of where we could be completely alone. Lance hasn't used this place in years and, as far as I know, no one else has either."

She sighed, leaning into him when he wrapped his arm around her waist. She appreciated the warmth that radiated from him as the cool spring air whipped across her skin. She understood Oliver's need for seclusion, the need to push aside all thoughts of Queen Consolidated and his family and the threat that Slade Wilson imposed on them. She felt it, too. She wanted to run. To take him as far from Starling City as possible, to retreat to the ends of the earth if it meant that they were safe. But she, like Oliver, knew that that wasn't an option. In the end, running would only get the people that they cared about killed. They couldn't run from Slade. The only way to end it was to face him head on. They had to kill him before he killed all of them.

"It's okay. It's – It's actually really beautiful out here. I like it."

He was quiet beside her as they walked along a narrow path to the dock. She eyed the boat warily, saying a silent prayer that he didn't expect her to get into it.

"I come out here alone sometimes," he told her, his voice soft, his eyes focused on the lake in front of them, "When I need a minute to think. I've been coming here more and more lately."

She nodded, saying nothing as she waited for him to continue.

"I don't know what to do, Felicity. I feel like he's going to win, like there's nothing that we can do to stop him. I can't stand the thought of him hurting Thea or my mother or Sara… or you. I need you to be safe. I can't lose you. I won't, not to him. I won't let him take you from me."

She stopped, pulling him to a stop beside her, and when he turned to face her, she pulled him into her arms. He stiffened for just a second before his entire body relaxed against hers and he dropped his head to her shoulder. She circled her arms around him, holding him tightly, suddenly afraid to let go.

"We're going to get through this, Oliver. We're going to find a way to take Slade down and we're going to do it together. Don't you know that I'm worried about you, too? I don't want to lose you and every time you put on the hood and walk out of the foundry, I'm terrified that you won't come back to me," she felt her body trembling as she tried to rein in the emotions that threatened to strangle her, "You and me and Digg, we're a team and we're going to get through this. And Sara and Roy will help us. Roy will do whatever it takes to protect Thea so you don't have to worry about her and Sara can take care of herself. We have something that Slade doesn't have, Oliver. We have a family, a family that will do anything that it can to stay together. You can't forget that. You can't let him get into your head."

He turned his face into her neck, his breath warm on her skin beneath the collar of her jacket, and she sighed. Her hand shifted to sift through his hair and they stood entangled on the bank of the lake for a long moment. When he finally lifted his head from her shoulder, his eyes were bloodshot and she could see the stress that he carried in his shoulders.

He lifted his hand to her face, brushing the tips of his fingers across her cheek.

"I still don't know how I got so lucky," he told her, "I don't deserve you or your kindness. I don't… I don't deserve your love."

She blinked up at him, her heart racing. She did love him. She had never told him as much but it didn't surprise her that he knew. Oliver was observant when he needed to be and even though he often pretended that he didn't notice the way that she watched him or the way that his actions affected her, she knew that he was aware of the growing feelings that she had for him.

She shook her head, "Oliver, you deserve so much more than you think that you do. I know that there are people in your life who have let you believe that what you're doing isn't right. I – I know that Tommy told you that you were a murderer. But that isn't true. I'm telling you the same thing I've told you time and time again, you're a hero. I can't condone the way that you started this… adventure but I've watched you change. I've watched you grow into this man that I respect. And no matter what has happened in your past, everyone deserves to be loved."

He closed his eyes, tipping his face up to the sky, and a tremor moved through him where they were still pressed together. He was overwhelmed, she knew, so she stood quietly as she waited for him to come back to her. When he finally did look at her, she saw something in the depths of his eyes that she had never seen before. He bent forward and brushed his lips against hers.

"Felicity, I …"

She shook her head, "It's okay. It's okay, Oliver."

She clung to him, urging his head back to her shoulder, surging up onto her toes so that she could wrap her arms securely around his neck.

When her arms and legs began to ache from the position that they'd been standing in, she pulled away and searched his face. It didn't take long for the mask that he normally wore to slip into place and she knew that he wasn't trying to hide from her but that he needed to contain the emotion that was bound to break him. He reached for her hand and she gave it to him willingly, not wanting to break contact with him completely, and followed him the rest of the way to the dock.

He sat with his feet dangling over the water and she sat beside him. She watched the surface of the lake ripple as the wind blew, the smell of new leaves and damp grass assaulting her senses. The sun overhead added a bit of warmth to the otherwise cool March air. If it hadn't been for the reason behind Oliver whisking her away or the fact that he'd come to this place before with either Laurel or Sara or both, she may have been able to find something romantic about their current location. Instead, there was a heaviness that weighed on both of them that made the silence that surrounded them thick with tension.

"What's your family like?"

The question surprised her both because it had come out of left field and because it had nothing to do with what they had previously been talking about. They hadn't talked about her family since the night that she'd told him about her father and before that night, he had never bothered to ask. She shared so little about her personal life, at least about her life prior to meeting him, and she suspected now that they were trying to build some kind of relationship, it would be important for her to open up to him.

She sighed, "My family is… complicated. Which, I guess, so is yours. Obviously you know about my dad. After he left, it was just me and my mom. And she wasn't always – how do I say this – motherly? She went through this phase right after he took off where it was all about her. It was like she forgot that I was even there. Or she just assumed that I didn't need her to look after me."

Oliver turned his head to look at her but he remained quiet and she continued without prompting.

"I was twelve the first time I came home from school and she was just gone. She left cash on the kitchen table and a note that she'd gone away with her boyfriend for the weekend. I spent two days locked up in my house, too afraid to step foot outside because I knew that if anyone found out that she'd left me alone, they would call the police."

She worried her lip between her teeth, wondering how much she should really tell him.

"She wasn't always a bad mother," she explained, "She … she just did whatever she could to forget about my dad and I guess I reminded her too much of him. When I was older, probably sixteen or so, she took me out of school for a week and we went to Florida. It was great. Just me and her on vacation together. That's probably one of the happiest memories that I have with my mom. It was just before I graduated from high school."

"You graduated early and went straight to MIT. How did she take that?" Oliver asked.

She shrugged, "Honestly I think she was happy to be on her own. It isn't that my mom doesn't love me, Oliver, but she … she never really wanted to have kids. She only had me because she thought that having kids would make my dad be a better husband. I think that she figured if they had a baby, he would have to stay with her. Obviously that didn't work out the way that she planned. But she does love me in her own way."

"So you're not close, then? When was the last time that you saw her?"

She sighed, turning away from his questioning eyes and stared out at the lake once again. She could only imagine what he thought of her mother. It was the same thing that the very few people who knew the truth thought: that Lucille Smoak was an awful parent who never should've had children. And maybe it was true, maybe her mother hadn't been a good mother but there had been children out there who had had it far worse that she had.

"It's been a while, since before I moved to Starling City. I don't exactly make much of an effort to go home and she's never even considered coming here to visit," she shrugged, "That's just the way it is. I'm used to it now."

He shook his head, "You shouldn't have had to get used to it. You should've had a mother who loved you, who cherished you. You deserve a real family, Felicity."

She turned to face him, drawing one leg up onto the dock so that she could angle her whole body into him. She held his gaze for a long moment, the words suddenly stuck in her throat. She surprised them both when she whispered, "I have a real family, Oliver. You're my family."


End file.
